


Seven Again

by heros_wings



Category: JYJ (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, No Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3260501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heros_wings/pseuds/heros_wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dark magic turns JYJ into children. There's no plot here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Again

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance for the existence of this fic.

Somewhere, deep in the darkest corner of the fandom even the most dedicated stalker side-eyed from time-to-time, a small group of girls gathered around a table. White candles were arranged in a circle around a shallow bowl. Inside it was a black candle, three photographs taken many years ago, and three hairs, gathered carefully from the trash of a beauty salon.

They chanted something memorized–no doubt–from an internet page with too much black, and bloody crosses.

"Oh Dark One...accept our sacrifice–" one of the girls poured stolen blood from the local butcher shop, onto the pictures "–and protect the three gods whom sinners are forcing away from us–" another girl lit a full matchbook and threw it into the shallow bowl. The pictures curled inward and burned to ash.

 

Hundreds of miles away, Yoochun awoke with a start.

He was curled in a black folding chair on the set of a new drama he had agreed to after several ill-advised glasses of wine followed by a few bottles of soju. He barely knew the plot, but he was a cop...again.

His feet were tucked neatly under him, and his head rested against the arm of the chair. Which wouldn't be weird at all, except he was a grown man, who was definitely too tall for that to be physically possible...

He sat up, and his feet...didn't touch the floor.

He looked down. And in a voice that hadn't been heard in twenty years, gasped, "Fuck."

 

Halfway across Seoul, Jaejoong was pacing the recording studio, phone held to his ear as he stepped over the sound engineer that had fainted after seeing him.

"I'M  NOT DRUNK I'M FUCKING 7!"

On the other line, his sister, who was running on three hours of sleep and half a cup of coffee, sighed tiredly into the phone as she spooned another serving of mashed sweet potatoes into her child's reluctant mouth.

"Jaejoongie, I know you're under a lot of stress but–" her phone beeped, indicating a FaceTime request. Sighing again, she accepted.

Her phone clattered to the floor the same time Junsu's mother walked into his apartment just 10 miles away.

 

"Oh my–"

Junsu rushed over to his mother and clung to her leg, because he only came up to her waist now. "Mom, don't freak out. Don't–"

He was cut off by a high-pitched, delighted squeal just before he was enveloped in a hug that squeezed the air out of his tiny lungs.

"Can't–" he gasped, flailing his arms "–mom!"

His mother pulled back, eyes wide, but way too happy considering her son was now four feet tall and essentially a miniature version of his 29-year-old self—blond hair and all.

"What..." her smiled widened excitedly as she pulled out her phone to dial Junho.

_"Mom, I got the weirdest text this morning from–"_

Her face fell when she heard the deep voice of her other son. "You're still an adult?"

There was a long pause.

_"Um...yes...what–?"_

She hung up, and turned back to Junsu with a glint in her eye. He backed away slowly, regretting everything. He really should have just waited for Junho to respond to his text.

"Mom..."

His eyes widened in horror as she turned her phone towards him.

"Mom don't–"

_CLICK._

"MOM!"

"My little Junsu is adorable again!" She bounced with excitement, and took three more pictures–all of them blurry. "I can't believe this. I must be dreaming! Even your clothes shrunk!"

"Mom this isn't–"

His phone rang. It was Yoochun.

Dodging his mother's camera, he answered.

_"Junsu–"_ his friend's usually deep voice came through the receiver high and child-like. His eyes widened.

"You too?"

_"What do you–ARE YOU–?"_

His phone beeped: Jaejoong

"Hang on."

He switched callers.

"Hyung–"

_"I'M NOT DRUNK I'M NOT EVEN FUCKING THIRTY ANYMORE!"_

His mother took four more pictures.

Shit.

"We need to meet."

 

An hour later, three managers, the entire C-JeS PR team, Yoochun's panicked drama producer, and Mrs. Kim sat in a spacious C-JeS office. Jaejoong was admiring himself via his phone's self-cam—face free of whatever wrinkles magically appeared the moment he turned 30. Yoochun was curled at the end of the couch, sleepily watching his manager and drama producer argue about whether they should re-cast or re-write the drama. Not far from him, Junsu was wrestling away from his mother. She managed to take 10 more photos and post two on Twitter, before his manager finally confiscated the phone.

"If this gets out..." he deleted the photos from Mrs. Kim's phone, as well as the two Twitter posts (which already had over 1000 views, and 800 favorites). She let out a soft, distressed noise and reached for the phone as he pocketed it.

Jaejoong was halfway through uploading an Instagram video, when he too, had his phone taken.

He pouted at his manager and reached for it. "Just one–"

"–No."

It took an hour before the drama producer left, phone held to one ear, apparently relaying his plan to the writers, who started drafting resignation letters on the back of half-written scripts instead.

"It's decided!" he shouted, pointing at Yoochun, who was snoozing against the arm of the couch. He opened one, bleary, uninterested eye. "You're going to be a child detective, so don't grow up in the middle of filming!" he shouted before slamming the door shut behind him.

Yoochun blinked around the room, still half asleep. "So have we figured out how to fix this?"

 

A week later Jaejoong uploaded his Instagram video.

And Mrs. Kim posted 10 photos of Junsu next to Junho, wearing his old soccer uniform.

Fans were fighting with each other—was it a hoax? Did they all just somehow knock up three girls when they were still barely 20, and have children identical to themselves?

The most prevalent theory seemed to be an extreme form of plastic de-aging surgery.

Yoochun was reading through the newest script trying to understand why his 7-year-old character was allowed to solve crimes and eat at street carts until midnight, when one of the coordi-noonas bounced over to him with his newest outfit: a cute blue suit with a bow tie. Apparently they were adapting the Japanese anime, _Detective Conan_.

Yoochun thought— _thought—_ that three idols turning into children would have...maybe raised some eyebrows. Brought about international attention, and questions about miracles or magic or...something more than a tabloid article claiming they cloned mini-versions of themselves and ran off to a foreign country to avoid enlistment.

His mother, at least, had seemed shocked. At first. But Yoohwan was a little too amused when he showed up at home, 4 feet tall and his manager in tow with bags full of little people clothes because, "who knows how long you're going to be like this," he said.

He stared at the little blue suit. Hopefully not long.

 

After two weeks, Jaejoong's Tweets and Instagram posts turned from, _"Aren't I cute?" "Fans get to see cute Jaejoongie again~" "Jiji likes me more now~ ^^ Shall I stay like this?"_ to, _"Lonely...." "We should never take for granted what we are blessed with."_ Accompanied by pictures of cigarettes and bottles of soju.

 

Junsu stormed into Yoochun's bedroom, clad in a mini-soccer uniform, and threw an overnight bag on the bed. "I'm staying here until we figure this out."

Yoochun, who had been napping at his desk, face planted in the script for episode 3, blinked up at him. "What?"

"My mother!" Junsu exclaimed, throwing his hands up like Yoochun had asked if the sky was blue. "Did you know she signed me up for little league soccer? I'M A GROWN MAN!"

Yoochun blinked again. He really needed a drink. And maybe another nap.

 

A week later, Jaejoong's sister posted a picture of him wearing one of his nieces dress-up princess costumes.

 

Yoochun finished filming episode four and was scolded by the woman at the convenience store for being up passed his bed time.

 

Junsu was dragged to three different soccer games, where the other neighborhood moms insisted that he'd play for team Korea one day.

 

_Jaejae (20:10): This has to stop._

_6002Chun (21:15): They tried to write in a love-line between me and an 8-year-old._

_Striker_Xia (21:30): ...my mother tried to enroll me in school._

 

Three days later, _Dispatch_ ran a story about boyband A using dark magic to de-age themselves and skip out on military enlistment.

Fan wars online moved to the street outside the C-JeS office. Many blamed the company's poor handling of the situation for the current miniature state of their three idols.

One of their lawyers staggered into the office, where Yoochun, Junsu, and Jaejoong were curled together on the couch, all in various states of misery. Jaejoong, with his head in Yoochun's lap, gazed longingly at the pack of cigarettes laying on the coffee table; Junsu lay stretched in the opposite direction on the couch, staring absently at the ceiling, legs resting across Jaejoong, singing soft, depressing songs under his breath; and Yoochun, sitting with his script on Jaejoong's head, crossing out all the romantic scenes the writers inserted the previous night.

"We need to find someone we can sue..." the man muttered, running a hand through his hair and straightening his tie a fan had grabbed earlier.

"God?" Jaejoong replied apathetically, fingers inching towards the pack of cigarettes.

His manager snatched them away, and he let out a tiny sob.

 

A few days later, because even in the darkest corners of the fandom, fans were terrified of C-JeS lawyers and scandals involving ditching military enlistment, hair was gathered, and pictures collected to reverse the spell.

 

The next morning, Mrs. Kim posted 10 consecutive Twitter posts about possibly adopting a child in need.

Yoochun's drama time-skipped halfway through episode 6, and the plot with the 8-year-old girl became a love affair with another noona actress .

Jaejoong smoked 3 packs of cigarettes in as many days.

No one was sued.

And Red Carpet Salon started putting locks on their trashcans.


End file.
